Season 1, Episode 1: Soul Survivor
by TryWhistlingThis
Summary: Still in progress.BBC canon still applies except this is my own 10th Doctor series taking place after 9th Doctor but Rose has left the TARDIS in this version. Story begins with the 10th Doctor regenerated,Docs 1-9 same, time war same as per RTD series
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1.**

In space, the blue box spiralled out of control, diving toward a blue and green planet from Earth. Inside, the Doctor gripped onto the console, grinning gleefully in anticipation for what was to come. Surrounding him was the console room the TARDIS: a gloomy dome shaped room with dimmed coral coloured lighting, an appropriate shade for his destination, Earth. Of course it was not his first time on the planet, but each time he had been there it had never failed to be interesting. In his current incarnation, he had short, cropped black hair with a slim, muscular appearance. His accent was unlike any of his predecessors, a northern Manchester type accent gave him a more abrasive demeanour in contrast to the debonair, mannered characteristics of Doctors past. In fact, if it couldn't be detected in personality it was certainly apparent in his appearance. Black battered leather jacket left open with a black form fitting v-neck short sleave shirt with black denim jeans and black leather lace up combat boots under the trousers that stopped above his ankle.

With great intensity, The Doctor pulled a few levers, raced around the console, pressed a button here and there but something was wrong. The TARDIS shook violently and it threw the Doctor to the ground. He looked frantically to the monitor on the console once he picked himself up. He narrowed his eyes at the monitor, "What could be throwing me off course like that" He thought to himself that something or someone on Earth was aware of his extraterritorial presence. Another shake threw him back into the railing, almost throwing him over onto the floor below. The console sparked and smoke began to seep out of it. He knew he had to act fast. He dug into his internal breast pocket of his leather jacket and retrieved his sonic screwdriver; he aimed it at the console and looked to it in frustration. He shook the screwdriver and exclaimed, "DAMN!" This particular incarnation disliked not having things work the way he had anticipated.

There was one last hope, he got down onto his knees and opened the grating in the floor to reveal the internal circuitry. He dug his hand in and started twisting some cables. He noticed that the energy beams running through the transparent cables were crimson read. He knew that the system had gone critical and something had to be done. He swalled nervously. He couldn't change course as the ship was caught in a gravitational pull. From what he could tell, the assailants were attempting to drag him into the earth so the ship can be destroyed. The only option he had left was to cut the power and hope to escape their sensors that way. He dug his hang further in, beneath them was a switch designed specifically for the power reboot. He could feel it beneath his fingers; another grin of confidence crossed his face. But something went horribly wrong.

The Doctor suddenly felt an extreme surge run up his arm. He felt it enter his body and run through every neuron in his body, or at least it felt that way. He screamed, retracted his hand and rolled back over the floor of the TARDIS. He began to shake uncontrollably, his head turned in spasms. His eyes were filled with fear.

He muttered, "I…I…I have to." He slowly and shakily rose to his feet and took a deep breath. He took one last look at his surroundings of the TARDIS where pandemonium was breaking loose. The console was sparking, smoke was everywhere. He widened his arms and closed his eyes. Suddenly, his body was engulfed in an energy beam – he was regenerating. The surge from beneath the TARDIS would have been enough to kill him. His body was able to sustain it but only temporarily. The final gasps and screams of the ninth Doctor could be heard as his figure and build underwent its metamorphosis. As he came out of it, the console finally exploded and some of the supports from the ceiling fell in. The newly regenerated Doctor fell to the ground, possibly from the sheer exhaustion of his change. His clothes were now torn and even more battered. The new man raised his head. He had longer hair, flopped down almost in a bowl shape. He was slimmer than his predecessor with a more accentuated jaw and cheeks. He stood up, wide eyed and mouthed. He ran his tongue around his new mouth. "Mmm, new teeth…" he exclaimed. His voice had also changed to resemble a more Estatuary accent. He looked around the TARDIS, shocked at the devastation. The column in the middle had stopped moving and the grinding engine noise had ceased but the lights were still on. The Doctor looked to the flickering on the console and the wall panels, seeing them blink with their last gasp of life. "Dying but functional nevertheless" he though to himself quietly. He walked up to the console and pressed a combination of buttons where the remaining lights dimmed significantly, the room was dead silent. The TARDIS was set for regeneration mode.

He concluded, "Well you can't stay like this" as he walked toward the door, opened and stepped out into what appeared to be an alley. It was night time and outside of the alley he could hear lots of traffic and evidence of nightlife given the laughs, talking and cheering he could hear. He felt weak and disoriented, he shook his head rapidly. He thought about what needed to be done. He firstly wanted to regenerate the TARDIS and give it a make over from the damage caused by the attack. While this was happening, he wanted to find out who caused the attack. He dug his hands into his pocket for the TARDIS key; he pulled the door shut and twisted the key in the opposite direction after pushing it into the lock. To regenerate the ship, it needed to be powered down and then finally, twist the lock in an anti-clockwise direction. Once he withdrew the key and stepped back, he tucked the key into his internal pocket. The ship then suddenly lit up in a gold type of light and looked as though it was disintegrating, almost like it was falling apart like a jigsaw puzzle. The thousands of pieces then ascended and vanished in the sky. This made the Doctor smile. He began to walk out of the alley when suddenly; he fell to his knees and gasped, struggling for air. He dragged himself along the harsh concrete ground, used a dumpster for support to pick himself up and stumbled out of the alley. The Doctor walked awkwardly and ended up lunging everywhere; he bumped into walls, shop windows and crashed into a table and chair outside a café. The Doctor was thankful that no one was sitting there.

To his peril, he crossed the road, dodging between cars that were beeping at him. His facial expression almost made him looked possessed or intoxicated on medication. Once he made it to the other side of the street, he collapsed into the gutter into a puddle of water, he wept a little at his declined state.

Very rarely had post regeneration trauma been this costly on his body. However, he considered the fact that the TARDIS itself was also undergoing metamorphosis. The Doctor had a psychic link with it. With it absent on the planet, he considered the fact that perhaps a part of him had gone with it leaving behind a shell of a man. He stood up, lept onto the sidewalk and collapsed once again. He could hear footsteps running toward him; he was rolled over onto his back, looking to the night sky when a bearded, elderly man looked down at him.

"Geez, there's still three hours until the countdown and already you're hitting it. Are you ok" he shouted in his thick Scottish accent.

All the Doctor could do was merely sigh and gasp, "Where…am I? Who…am I?" The Doctor didn't even know what was happening to him or even have a realisation of his surroundings any longer.

The elderly man looked to his left and right, shouting "HEEEELP, call an ambulance – this man needs help!"

The Doctor felt helpless and wounded. Though he no longer felt like the Doctor, he felt like a stranger, an unidentified man. He didn't bother talking as he came to the realisation that nothing he could have to say would make much sense. But to make things worse, he felt himself getting weaker and wearier. His eyes were getting heavier and his throat was getting drier. He wondered to himself if he was dying. To an extent, he wanted to die given how much pain his body was in and how little energy he had remaining. He could no longer pick himself up from the cold concrete. All he could do was watch the good Samaritan wave his arms about, shouting and crying out until everything turned to black…and then suddenly, his surroundings were dead silent.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

Martha rifled through a wash basket spilling over on to the floor frantically, glaring at the clock from the corner of her eye. _Where is that damn shirt?_ She stood straight, putting her hands on her hips. She bit her lip and sulked. She rolled the top of her faded charcoal sweatpants down twice. They were stretching in their old age and constantly falling down but Martha couldn't bear to part with them, or the hole ridden electric blue v-neck long-sleeve top she was wearing.  
>"Brennan!" she called. Her boyfriend of two years stirred in the bedroom.<br>"What?" he groaned.  
>"Have you seen my work shirt?" Martha stomped around the living room, looking in ridiculous places – the back of the lounge, under the television.<br>"It's in here, babe." He called, Irish lilt coming through.  
>Martha sighed with relief and stomped in to the bedroom. Brennan pointed in the general direction of the shirt and she picked it up and put it on the bed. For the millionth time since the hospital changed the uniforms, she thanked no one in particular for the iron-free micro-fibre it was made in. She lifted her pyjama top over her head and threw it on the floor. Brennan eyed her eagerly, wishing she didn't have to go to work. He sighed.<br>"Something the matter?" Martha asked, her lip curling up at the side in a restrained smile as she concentrated on buttoning up her shirt.  
>"Well…you woke me up so that I could watch you dress." He said, putting his hands behind his head. "What am I going to do with myself when you leave?"<br>Martha laughed, running her fingers through her hair, pulling it back into a perfunctory pony-tail.  
>"Whatever you like. But <em>I<em> will be at work, so you're on your own." She replaced her sweatpants with her work pants.  
>Brennan groaned, rubbing his face. "I can't believe you're leaving me like this one New Year's Eve. You're a cruel girlfriend."<br>"No, I'm an un-poor girlfriend. One who buys the groceries and pays the bills. I'm getting overtime for this shift."  
>"Hey!" he protested, "I contribute! And anyway, when I finish my doctorate, I'll be rich and respectable and I can buy you anything you want. And then you won't have to work at the hospital and you can make me my dinner and have ten babies."<br>Martha rolled her eyes. "If you think that's happening, you're severely misguided."  
>As she got closer to the bed, Brennan shot forward and grabbed her wrist, pulling her down to the bed. Martha squealed and laughed, feigning protest.<br>"I've decided you're not allowed to go to work." He grinned. He leant down to where she'd landed next to him and kissed her gently. She stared at him momentarily then returned the kiss. She pulled her face away and glanced at the white digital clock on her bedside table. She hurriedly kissed Brennan on the forehead and leapt up out of bed.  
>"You are the devil, Brennan." She chided, smiling. "I have to go". Martha slid her made-for-comfort-not-style black shoes on.<br>"Martha...it is you who is the devil."  
>"Love you." Martha called as she grabbed up her keys.<br>"Have a good day, she-demon."  
>She laughed and went out the front door.<p>

After Brennan's distraction, a small traffic-jam thanks to road works and an asshole in an Astra she arrived at the hospital fifteen whole minutes late. She rushed over to the elevator, catching it with her hand just as the door was about to close, sliding in with some slightly irate staff and visitors. When the elevator door opened up, Martha stumbled out, nearly losing her footing. She ran past the front desk, rushing out apologies to the matron behind the desk, tripping over the words. She slipped behind the desk and into the staff office, where she found the lockers. As she was stashing her bag in hers, someone came in the other door that came from the hallway to the medical ward. Some of the nurses thought it should be locked, since patients sometimes entered through it, mistaking it for a bathroom or thinking it led to another part of the hospital.  
>"Late, Martha?" asked the round, middle aged woman.<br>"Yes…I blame Brennan." She huffed. The woman breathed a laugh, not at all quiet. Janet was not quiet in any way.  
>"Is he not out partying tonight?"<br>"No. He decided to stay home. Didn't want to go out without me."Martha gave a proud smile.  
>"He's a good boy."<br>Martha looked at the clock near the door and frowned.  
>"You're rarely ever late," she reasoned in her northern accent, "I'm sure the matron won't kill you. Tania's late every other day and she still has her job."<br>Martha smiled at Janet. She was always kind, motherly. Her pale skin was red on the cheeks. She was only halfway through her shift but she was already puffed. Despite being a large woman, she could probably work a solid twenty-four hours before she crashed so this obvious strain was not a good sign. New Year's Eve was always busy, though. The extra money she would make for working a public holiday would be well earned. There was only one hour until the first day of the new year, well, forty-five minutes. She closed her locker and went out to the front desk and checked the roster board.  
>"I would suggest checking 12 first." Suggested the matron – a large dark woman with an exotic accent. "He came in unconscious and he hadn't woken up the last he was checked which was nearly twenty minutes ago."<br>"Okay, matron." She said, memorising the other numbers under her name. She spun on her heel and headed towards bed twelve. As she turned in to the doorway of the three bed room, she looked at twelve – it was empty. Martha's stomach dropped. She walked over to the bed and picked up the chart. Flipping through the pages, she could see there wasn't any severe damage, no alcohol in his system. It was noted that when he was found, he was 'delirious' and the person who found him thought at first that he was drunk. Placing the chart back on the end of the bed, Martha rushed out to the desk.  
>"Twelve is missing." Martha cried in a hushed voice. "Shall I call security or look for him myself?"<br>The matron heaved an exasperated breath from her large, plump mouth, "Go look for him yourself, Martha. If you can't find him, then come back. I call security now, okay?"  
>Martha nodded and rushed off down the hall. She searched every room in the medical ward, then went out the secure door, down the corridor to Accident and Emergency where she asked if they'd seen a patient who didn't belong there. They hadn't. She ran out of there and down the same corridor, checking every door. There had been no name on his chart since Twelve had no ID on his person. Martha wished there had been, since then she could call out to him. She couldn't very well run down the hall calling out 'Twelve'. She went into the men's bathroom, the women's bathroom, the cleaner's store room, the tea room. For a few hopeless moments, she stood at an intersection of hallways. Forward was the medical ward, behind her, Accident and Emergency. To her right were the elevators. If she took the left corridor, she would find the kitchen and the laundry. <em>I may as well<em>, she thought desperately. She strode down the hallway uncertainly. First, the laundry on the left side. This is where all the dirty linen from this level went to. From here it was sent down a laundry chute to the basement which led out to the car park. The laundry was sent off-site for cleaning. There were plenty of nooks and crannies in this laundry room and Martha checked them all. She even examined the laundry chute but, remembering that Twelve was roughly six foot and one inch tall and of an appropriate weight, she decided that would be impossible. She left the laundry and ventured further down the corridor to the kitchen. No one would be in there at this time of the night, so there shouldn't have been a faint light emanating from the small square window in the swinging door.  
>But there was.<br>As she got closer, she could hear a faint muttering. She walked slowly and quietly. She didn't want to startle the patient. That's what she told herself. Truthfully, though, this end of the corridor was dark and quiet. Twelve was of an uncertain mind-set. Martha was afraid for herself.  
>Instead of pushing the door in and announcing her presence, she stood next to the door on the opening side and pulled it quietly ajar, just enough that she could slide through unnoticed (hopefully). She held the door as the springs pulled it closed, to stop it from making a noise. The fridge door was open – explaining the ominous light – and in it was a person, a man: he was searching for something and he was constantly shifting his position. He would bend over so that his rear stuck out behind the door and his head was hidden and only the top of his wild brown hair protruded from the top. Then he would find something, straighten up, turn the found thing around in his hands for a while mutter something like "…supposed to be green? Yerch!", toss the find over his shoulder and resume his former position. He found a carton of milk and rejoiced, tearing open the spout and pouring it into his mouth.<br>"Catching up on your calcium?" Martha asked, finally deciding to announce her presence.  
>Twelve spat the milk back in to the carton and stared at her, wiping his mouth with his forearm. Now, Martha was able to get a look at his face. It was fine featured and distinguished. His skin was clear and the colour was pale and untanned but healthy looking none-the-less. His hair was short but cut into a modern style in many different lengths that stood up from his head in a crazy, slightly matted way. <em>I'm sure it looks better when it's done properly<em>, Martha assumed. Twelve was still in his hospital gown but he was facing her and half obscured still by the refrigerator door. He darted looks between the carton of milk and Martha, unsure of how to proceed…only momentarily shaken.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

The Doctor was caught startled and threw the milk to the other side of the kitchen in shock of the presence of his visitor. He looked to her wide mouthed as equally as he did wide-eyed. He looked her up and down and surmised that she was speaking to him. He swallowed awkwardly and gestured to the fridge, "I'm famished!"

He noticed that the woman chuckled slightly, almost in slight disbelief at his eccentricity, followed by folding her arms across her chest , "Well you're certainly not whittling away into nothing", she said walking over to him, the Doctor looking back at her. She closed the fridge and remarked, "Though you are quite slim, my partner would kill for your figure", she said with a slight smirk, standing between him and the fridge. The Doctor ran his hand through his hair, "So would the bank if I had a million of them."

The woman looked to him again with a state of confusion and shook her head. "Well, Ritche Rich, the last time I checked the patient list you're meant to be on your back recovering from a possible seizure or black out," she narrowed her eyes at him and continued, "in fact we're still unsure what caused it. What do you last remember before passing out?"

The Doctor looked away for a moment and looked back to her, narrowing his eyes, "Actually, I don't remember."

She nodded, "Well that's the first sign of retrograde amnesia. It's ok, you're obviously in a state of shock. Come on, we'll get you back to bed, rested and well fed," she said with a smile, "in fact to us you're only a number. We need to address you by name. I'm Martha," she offered with an extended hand.

The Doctor looked to Martha blankly and scratched his head briefly, "Oh, hi, Martha. I'm…" he faded off and then finished the thought, "…lost."

Martha shook her head, "Poor thing, it really took it out of you. Well, I can organise for a Doctor who specialises-"

The Doctor interrupted as he looked off to the side to the television mounted in the wall frame of the news, he walked over to it, paying close attention to it. "New years eve…" he murmured. Martha nodded in the background, "Not a good night to be on staff or in care, believe me."

The Doctor took a deep breath and marched outside of the kitchen, down the hallway and to a window overlooking the city. He took in the lights of the world below him and looked out to the horizon where the night sky seemed to end. Behind him he could hear Martha's intently placed footsteps behind him and her voice calling over his shoulder, "Look, I know you're not feeling the best right now but you're not making it easier. I tell you what, if you go back to bed I'll even try to arrange a spot by the window for you. How does that sound?"

The Doctor looked forward unaffected and simply muttered the word, "Jelly", turning to face her, "I want jelly."

Martha shrugged, "Up to you, mate. We have plenty of the stuff, but I can only serve a patient that's in bed. OH&S – non-negotiable."

Moments later the Doctor was sitting up in bed. The world nor his situation made a great deal of sense to him. He watched the other patients in their beds who were busy reading magazines, Christmas cards or just trying to sleep off the reality of spending the holiday season in hospital. A family were visiting the patient in the bay next to him who had a neck brace. A child of an age not too far below ten stood by the bed of that patient, he then looked to the Doctor and walked over to him, holding a small electronic device. He held it up to the Doctor, "I bet you can't beat my high score," he jovially teased. The Doctor glumly shook his head, not paying much attention to the child. He didn't intend on being disdainful but his pre-occupied mind kept him focused on another things. Who was he? Why was he there? How did he end up there? He looked to his right to see a tall, slim wardrobe left ajar. The Doctor climbed out of bed and opened it in its entirety to see something that was of vague familiarity to him.

Tracing his fingers over the battered black leather jacket, he remembered that it was the last thing he wore. He reached inside of the internal breast pocket of the jacket and retrieved a long, pen shaped object. A penlight? It had a switch on the side, he flicked it and a strange blue haze appeared out of the other end. Lacking intrigue, he switched it back off, tucking it back into the pocket of the jacket. He felt around some more and found a slim leather object, much like a wallet much simmer with a smaller frame. He opened it to reveal nothing but a blank white page. Shaking his head, he placed it back into the pocket. There was nothing in the trouser pockets. As he was moments prior to going through his personal effects, he was without answers.

Suddenly, he became distracted by something he heard on the television, looking up to the bracket on which it was mounted, he saw a news report. "I got sacked because they think I'm mad! But where have the bodies gone? Why can't they explain that?"

A reporter's voice then played over the footage, "though Ms. Duncan sounds passionate that bodies have gone missing from the morgue, the Director of the facility assures BBC News that the bodies in question have simply been transferred, with paperwork to support it."

The image then cut to an older man in a grey suit speaking to a reporter, "the stress of this occupation is well documented. I hate to sound corny or distasteful, but in this line of work involving the deceased, it's not hard for the stress to get the better of someone."

The reporter then pried, "that's some outburst though, I mean bodies going missing?"

"Well stress can manifest itself in unusual ways." To which the reporter chuckled, "unusual would be something of an understatement then?"

The report then went on to show the facility where the dismissal of the distressed staff member had taken place. It was an old heritage building, very well known.

Despite being in his state of being more concerned about who he was or why is was even there, he also felt compelled to pursue what he just saw on the television. He couldn't explain why, but he felt strangely compelled and developed a brief emotional identity with the story. Did it in some way reflect the abandonment or loss of personal identity that he was experiencing in his state. In an attempt to come to terms with the growing curiosity, he opened his personal wardrobe and got all of his old clothes back out, even the battered leather jacket. He stepped into the ward bathroom, fully dressed and stepped out, leaving his hospital clothing on his bed.

The old lady from across Penny looked to him and exclaimed, "where do you think you're going?"

The Doctor smirked slightly to her and said, "to ask more questions. If I find anything good I'll bring something back." With that said, he set off only to leave the lady shaking her head and returning her gaze to her magazine. Striding down the corridor, he had no idea where he would begin looking. He started by going to the reception desk on that level which was unmanned. He very quickly went through all of the items on the desk and found a leather bound book. Opening it, he saw a list of names, dates and ward numbers. In realisation of the book being a log book, he clicked his fingers and flipped through it to where his ward would be. Remembering his ward and bay number, he took a pen from the desk and signed himself out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

Martha let her hand down by her side after running it across her scalp in disbelief, "you didn't think to sound the bell?"

The elderly patient in the bay across from Penny shook her head with great innocence, "Well he couldn't have gone far, he didn't leave all that long ago."

With a sigh, Martha noticed that the missing patient had left his gown on the bed and looked back to the elderly lady, engaging in a lecture type discourse, nodding from the bedclothes on the bed to where the Doctor's footwear would have been "well if he didn't plan on going far, why did he change back into his clothes?"

Martha then stopped herself, looking down, realising that the stress of working New Year's Eve, being away from Brennan and now missing a patient had accumulated to losing perspective on the actual situation at hand, "I'm sorry. It's just been a very long night and this is even before we have the drunks gatecrashing the hospital," she began to find her smile, "you just get some rest and if you see him, tell him he's in big trouble, ok?"

After finding her composure, Martha asked around for a man matching dress code she assumed the missing patient would have adopted – nothing. She reasoned that given his appearance didn't seem to show any obvious sign of illness or injury, it wouldn't be all that hard for him to blend in as a visitor or someone who had been previously discharged. "No, he couldn't have," she was suddenly reminded of a patient she had a while back who had made an attempt at signing himself out, except that patient didn't succeed. Surely this patient didn't actually do that? She ran back to the reception desk, looking through the logbook for the bay and ward number.

Sure enough, the nameless man had signed himself out, with a sigh, she felt her mood shifting again, "shit" she muttered. The last thing Martha needed as a student was to have lost one of her patients, that would be a sure way of never being admitted to medical practice. It conflicted her, but for now, surely if she could find the man before reporting it, the rest of the night could go smoothly?

The Doctor had made it outside of the hospital. Looking around, it was the usual romp one would expect on a New Year's Eve. But what part in all this did he play? He looked to the taxis and busses, strangely he had a recognition of what they were and the purpose they served. He only knew too well he needed a form of currency, but he was broke. But something then caught his eye, a red telephone box, narrowing his eyes, he walked over to it. Remembering the name of the facility, he flipped through the phone book and found it to which the address was revealed. It still wasn't of much use because he had very little fix on his orientation in London.

While lost in his thoughts, he winced, raising his hands to his head in response to a sharp pain, he then widened his hands to the walls that surrounded him in the phone booth, he eyes widened with vivid images of another type of box, a phone box not unlike his but of a different colour. In desperation, he pushed the door open for fresh air and sat on a bench just near the phone booth. He collected his thoughts and his manner, looking to the night sky, deeply troubled, he stood up and set off down the street. He descended down a set of stairs to a railway station and got to the platform, looking at the maps of London. While they weren't street or location specific, they did give a basic outline of the various areas. It was a long shot and a bit of a risk, but a free ride on The Tube would get him closer to where he wanted to be. His inner instinct urged him on despite his reservations, he knew it's what drove him yet he ironically didn't know himself.

Martha walked back into the ward where the strange man once stayed and returned to the elderly woman. She pulled out a chair from within the bay and sat beside her. Engaging her bedside manner, Martha placed her hand the elderly woman's hand, "are you feeling better?"

The patient looked to Martha, "oh, you're now my nurse too?"

Martha smirked and shook her head, "I deserved that. No, truthfully, I just want to make sure you're ok, I just didn't feel good about our little exchange earlier."

The patient said with great control and calmness, "don't be silly, I'm fine. Though to be home would be nice."

Martha nodded, "well, I can't do that but if there's anything else you need. Please, don't hesitate to ask." Martha felt that the bedside manner was starting to wear thin given that the lady was growing less and less receptive to it. Martha removed her hand from the patient and placed it in her lap, almost like a Sister of the Church.

"Before I go, just about the man," nodding to where the patient would have been resting had he followed nurse's instructions.

The lady shook her head, "nothing. Not a sign."

Martha looked to her inquisitively, "no hints of where he may have gone? Any remarks he made that stood out before he left?"

The lady stopped to think and looked to Martha, "he seemed to watch a bit of telly before he left. You know, that big story with that strange woman at the Bowman Facility? What a nutter, bodies going missing, I mean really", she remarked with a chuckle.

Martha couldn't help it draw the parallels between the situation the patient spoke of and that of her very own, "it would certainly send one mad."

"Said he was going to ask questions…more questions" she shrugged and looked ahead. "Here I was thinking I was a patient to long."

Martha looked ahead and thought to herself that he couldn't have possibly been so intrigued by the report that he would actually go looking for answers. But at the same time he wasn't in the hospital, he had no wallet or personal ID. He couldn't have gone far, but he came across as the type of guy that didn't care less. Certainly, he lacked some faculties that characterised his strangeness. But he also knew the system well enough to sign himself out of the hospital. What or whom was she dealing with? He was clueless but clever, stranded but opportunistic, strange but goal driven, disorderly but cute.

It wasn't much to go on, but it's all she had. One thing Martha knew is that she couldn't live with herself knowing that a patient had left the hospital on his own accord, only to land in more harm. She would have to lie a little, but she could get off her shift if the circumstances were extenuating enough. With that in mind, she was on her feet.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The Doctor's clothes felt long and battered which were appropriately symbolic of his seemingly scrambled state. Despite taking time to collect his thoughts on the train ride, the best he could say for himself that he felt less dizzy and disoriented. His surroundings made more sense because visual recognition of landmarks were becoming more apparent. The environment was developing context, but he was still the accidental tourist lost amongst it all.

He stood outside of the morgue which had previously served as a medical college. It was an old heritage building which contributed which characterised much of its suitably gloomy appearance. Feeling that his agility and strength had improved, the Doctor approached the stone wall and began climbing after finding his footing. It was awkward at first in combat boots given their bulk and overall shape, but he managed well enough. Though it wasn't enough to prevent the Doctor landing on his side with a groan. Ducking beneath the shadow of a nearby tree, he took a deep breath and stepped out of the light that was coming from the building. He couldn't hear any dogs or see any guards but he crept around with the expectation that a facility such as the one he was trying to infiltrate to be guarded.

Once at what appeared to be a side door, he tried his hand at forcing the handle but with no success- locked. The Doctor narrowed his eyes as he heard the stubbornness of the lock as he tried again to open it. "Sounds like it's caught between a rock and a hard…" but his thoughts were interrupted to which he narrowed his eyes again, "…sound…" he continued and reached into his internal pocket. Drawing his sonic screwdriver, he held it before him, activating it, slightly taken aback by the buzzing, he held it to the lock and heard the locks release, with a grin he switched the sonic screwdriver off and tucked it back into the inner pocket of his battered leather jacket.

He stepped in and winced after hearing the slam of the heavy door behind him. Surreptitiously but promptly he tip-toed down the abundantly lit white concrete corridor. He followed it around until he got into a darkened area that had wooden floorboards, doors leading to other corridors and a staircase. He saw a desk in the middle of the large room which looked onto a set of double doors – the entrance he assumed. Though his observations were troubled when he saw what appeared to be a small, faint red dot in the corner of the room. "Niiiice…" he muttered, doing his best to avoid its range. He ascended up the stairs which were situated behind and above the camera, though it was no guarantee that he hadn't already been seen, especially after his crash entrance at the side door which superseded his thud and tumble from the heights of the stone wall.

As he ventured further down the corridor, he entered the main morgue where the refrigerated storage area kept the bodies. He walked up to one of the storage bays, pulling out the shelf – no body. He then opened another – nothing. He continued along the storage units, still nothing.

He stroked his chin, "now this is biz-" He was cut off by a loud slamming noise. He looked toward the noise, a metallic door leading into another refrigerated area. A dint was being punched into it from the other side. It was getting large, the noise getting more ferocious. Suddenly, the door was pushed violently off its hinges, a middle aged man in a hospital gown stepping out. His skin was pearly white, cold and inhuman looking, but he was human, at least in a previous life. As the person advance, he shoved a medical table out of the way with the strength of two hands. The Doctor saw a syringe gun on the table, he scooped it up and held it behind his back.

The Doctor took a step back in alarm, biting his bottom lip. He was beginning to have his back against the wall, there was no other way out, the Doctor swallowed nervously. With his spare hand took out his sonic screwdriver, aiming it at some pipes fixed to the ceiling above them, "I'm sorry…I'm sorry" he reassured with the activation of his sonic screwdriver. The sprinkler system was set off, an alarm being triggered and water going into the eyes of the walking body.

While the body was distracted, the Doctor stabbed the syringe gun into the body's arm, taking a sample of blood. He then tucked the syringe away and immediately bolted, hearing the body starting to chase him.

Martha walked around the side of the facility, having no luck finding the patient. Though some of her time was divided by incessant SMS messages on her iPhone to find a way out of her shift and come home. Ironically she was halfway there but she considered herself as taking a detour. She tucked the phone away, growing tired of her boyfriend's pleas for sex.

They had been close for a little while but a part of her felt as though as a couple they were going through the motions. While only together two years, Valentines and Christmas periods passed already felt familiar, the surprises were running thin. The relationship wasn't on the downward spiral, though Martha had found other things to keep her mind busy, like work.

But her thoughts were interrupted when she heard an alarm sound along with searchlights ringing. She stepped against the wall, gritting her teeth and heard something above her making a ruffling noise. Suddenly, it leapt over her and landed in front of her on all fours, it turned around and snarled at her to which she jumped and screamed. It was a man, he put his hand on her mouth, her eyes widened – it was the mad patient she was looking for.

"It-yo-u-mhmm-sas-work-diffcult" her voice mostly suppressed by his head, his eyes widened in confusion and then he realised by removing his hand. He briefly wiped it on her top to rid of her saliva.

"Do you mind?" she said looking to her top and back to him. "You're meant to be in bed!"

"Nah, I'm getting just enough thanks!" He dismissed.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked in disgust.

The Doctor reassured with hands before him, "I meant sleep, sleep. I've had enough rest. I'm onto- " suddenly he heard a large gate opening further down the wall, he snatched her hand and looked to her, "I wouldn't advise hanging around here – ALONZI!"

"Hang on just a second!" she protested, trying to twist her hand out of his.

"Alonzi…I like that" he reflected as they started running, looking toward the gate and seeing a large, heavy vehicle with bright lights beam from it.

"You let me go this once otherwise I'll have you behind bars! Besides, what is your bloody name?"

The Doctor pulled her along, seeing the vehicle driving fast toward them, he pulled her along, getting back onto the footpath onto the snow to the top of a slope, looking to her to answer the question but losing his footing, pulling her down with him.

They both rolled down the slope on top of one another, holding each other, Martha letting out a scream. Once they hit the bottom of the slope, Martha was on top, straddling him, looking down, sitting up, she looked to him darkly. "I might have just lost my job because of you! You signed yourself out without my consent, gained access to staff areas and have caused me to leave work just to make sure you're ok. You are coming with me and that is final – ANY QUESTIONS?"

For the first time, she saw the Doctor humbled, "no, nurse."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6.**

Martha and the Doctor walked through the snow, barely saying a word to one another. "Don't you have family that are worried about you?" Martha asked, looking to him with concern.

The Doctor looked ahead, thinking, "I…don't have any."

"No friends, relatives…colleagues even? We have no information on you, it's like you just dropped out of the sky," she then studied his clothing and looked ahead, "it seems as though you've been in the wars too. Do you even remember how you got injured?"

The Doctor didn't respond as he was once again lost in his thoughts. The pair continued walking until they got onto a road which lead to a bridge, back into the main part of town. However, there was a barricade.

Martha stopped in her tracks, "what is going on?"

There was a tank on the bridge with military vans surrounding it. Military personnel were heading traffic back away from the bridge, nobody was allowed through.

The Doctor ran his hand through his already messy hair, "lets find out shall we?"

"No, wait-" Martha reached out to grab his arm but he was already ahead.

A soldier, whose uniform had the U.N.I.T acronym on the shoulder, held his hand out in front of him as the Doctor approached, "sorry, Sir, we are going to have to ask you to turn around."

Martha followed from behind, looking to the soldier, "What's the problem?"

"We're dealing with a grave situation. It's confidential, please turn around."

The Doctor took time to study the U.N.I.T logo and once again he had flashes and he looked the soldier in alarm, "Stewart…Stewart?" he asked in a confused daze.

The soldier looked awkwardly to Martha, "he'll be far better off just staying at whichever party he came from," to which his demeanour became a lot more firm, "now move along!"

After being ordered to move along, the Doctor and Martha headed back to the small shopping village near the morgue. There was a small café there which was still open for the new year. It wasn't the site of a party, which suited Martha fine since she didn't want a constant reminder of where she could have been had she just simply called in sick.

A waitress came and gave them their orders. The Doctor had a cup of tea while Martha had a cappuccino.

She looked to him with intrigue. "Do you think you could be suffering from some form of amnesia?"

The Doctor looked to his cup of tea, dropping one lump of sugar into the hot beverage that he didn't add milk to. He then looked up to Martha, "well is that not your job?" He then returned to his tea, gently stirring in the sugar with a teaspoon.

Martha sat back, picked up her cup and took a sip, placing the cup down, she started speaking again, "Well, there's no lump on your head, no bruise and no sign of drug or alcohol taking. In fact, it's almost like your clothing took the battering for you, like some kind of shield."

The Doctor patted his jacket briefly, he poked at one of the holes in the material with his index finger. It had never occurred to him as to why he was in that condition, he was more concerned with who he was and why he was there. He shook his head, once again at a loss for ideas and looked back to her, "I like to travel. I'm not fond of being stuck in the one place at the one time."

Martha chuckled a little, "I like travelling to," she dreamily looked to the ceiling, "I remember when Brennan took me to Paris. It was such a nice week. What I wouldn't give to be back there," she them looked back to The Doctor, "how about you, where do you like to travel?"

Once again, the Doctor struggled with the immediacy and directness of the question, "oh…here, there…everywhere?"

Martha laughed, "you have issues, mate," she then stopped to look at him softly, "you don't really get out a lot do you. You're shy…but so…bold too. It's strange. I'm no Doctor though, I'm just studying medicine so I'm afraid I'm of little help to you."

"Doctor…" he echoed as he sipped his tea. He looked around the café to the other patrons, overhearing a parent say to her child, "Time to go, Ed."

Martha looked to him awkwardly, "look, I'm afraid you're starting to weird me out just a little ok. Can we just-"

The Doctor then shot up from his seat, patting his jacket pocket in a panic, he withdrew a key from it and threw it to the table before Martha, she jumped at his sudden impulse. For a brief second, she saw the key glow a bright hold, but then quickly revert back to its usual, mundane property. "I'M THE DOCTOR!" he beamed.

Martha stood up and nodded slowly, "Yeah…ok, I suppose that makes me a professor? But all the same, you are freak me out – AGAIN."

The Doctor looked to her and started to explain, "look, I realise that this is-" his breath was starting to shorten and this time they were beginning to capture the attention of the patrons in the café. He turned on his heel, heading for the door and Martha looked to him in an alarmed state, "HEY!"

She then looked hesitantly to the waiter behind the counter and rolled her eyes, "I guess you want me to pick up the bill?"

She then looked down to the table and saw the Doctor had forgotten his key, she looked up, but he had gone. At the same time, she smirked because her instincts told her that he couldn't get far without the key, especially if it didn't just do what she saw it do. But that worried her too. She picked up a napkin, rolled it into a cigar shaped type object and poked the key. Looking to the napkin, Martha noted that there were no singe marks. She picked it up with her bare fingers and looked to it, "…you are a strange one aren't you?"

* * *

><p>The Doctor heard footsteps running after him, he turned around to see Martha, he grinned, "There you are, no stopping you is there?"<p>

She handed him his key, "you forgot this and you owe me four pounds for the drinks."

He tucked the key away and nodded, "consider it done. For now, we need to get back over that bridge."

Martha rolled her eyes, "Ok, Commando, what do you suggest? And why are you in such a hurry, you're still my patient, you know?"

"I need to get back to the TARDIS, there's a scan I need to run. Something dragged me down here, a signal. I need to know what's starting all of it. I have a feeling it's got something to do with the walking dead." He continued walking.

"You are not making any sense. What's a…TRADA? Walking dead?" She laughed with a clap, "oh you are good. The news report that sent you here. Ok, so where is the Mystery Mobile parked?"

The Doctor turned and looked to her defensively, "I am NOT making this up. There is something at work here and I believe its linked to that lock down on the bridge. Apart from the guard that chased me out of that facility, the morgue was abandoned and the Government are covering it up which explains U.N.I.T's presence."

"Ok, I take it you mean aliens, zombies, vampires-"

Moving through the snow, the Doctor reminded, "- and werewolves. Seen them all. But this is something more profound. Who has something to profit from resurrecting a human body. Why, why, why?"

Trying to match his footsteps, she was trying to piece the whole thing together, "Wait, you ARE serious? You saw a body at the morgue…I mean, a living…dead body?"

"You're catching on. My hypothesis is a possible telekinesis. Though the alien using the body as a host isn't off the cards. Though why wouldn't they make some attempt to communicate? Weeell, there was the '_mmhhm-aaaarg_' groan I suppose but they should have had full use of the vocal chords." Turning on his heel, he then looked to Martha and stopped in his tracks. "What's your take on the situation?"

Martha just stared at him with an open mouth, lost for words.

The Doctor grinned, "I'm The Doctor by the way."

Martha began to concede to his logic and slowly nodded, "Martha…Martha Jones."

The Doctor turned on his heel and saw a motorcycle parked next to a lamppost, he took out his sonic screwdriver and walked up to it.

"Ummm, you're not thinking of doing what I think you're thinking of doing by any chance?"

The engine started after the Doctor held the sonic screwdriver by the keyhole, he tucked the sonic screwdriver away and hopped on. Looking to her, he said, "it wouldn't surprise me if I was."

"Look…Doctor, I don't steal. I work hard, I study hard and I'm not about to be a party to some petty-"

From across the road, shouting could be heard, "GET OFF THAT YOU BASTARD!" The man looked furious, he was wielding a cricket bat and was approaching them, Martha placed his hand on the Doctor's shoulder, knowing he wasn't going to relent. She shook her head and climbed on behind him, placing her hands on his hips and looked to the man approaching the bike. "It's only a loan, he really is honest like that. I promise he'll-" Before she could finish, the Doctor pulled back on the throttle and the motorbike took off down the street.

The wind pushed through the Doctor's hair while Martha's stayed still in the tight ponytail she had it pulled back in. Shouting over the noise of the engine, "I really hope you know what you're doing!" But suddenly, a siren from behind them could be heard – a police car. "SHIT!" she exclaimed.

The Doctor picked up the pace, Martha gripped onto him tighter while she pressed her knees in harder on the bike. The bike dodged traffic and cut a corner but the car was still in pursuit. Martha pleaded, "please, please, please – STOP!"

"I'm afraid the fate of the Universe is at stake, or at least I think it is," the Doctor then gritted his teeth, noticing a petrol tanker in the middle of the road, blocking the path, "HOLD ON!" He then swerved the bike, almost onto its side, sliding under the tanker and bringing the bike up again.

"YOU ARE INSANE!" Martha screamed, but looked over her shoulder to see that the car was no longer in pursuit, nor was there a crashing sound. That fact gave her some comfort but she still didn't know enough about this so-called "Doctor".

They returned to the bridge to see that the blockade was still in effect. The Doctor brought the bike to a halt and remained seated, he took out his psychic paper and held it up before him so Martha could see it. "Read that" he instructed.

"Read what? It's just a blank sheet of paper."

The Doctor tucked it away, "Great, the regeneration still hasn't finished." He looked to the blockade. There was absolutely no way through. The tank had blocked off the bridge along with the two U.N.I.T vans.

Martha asked, still holding his sides, looked to the Doctor, "So, what's the plan?"

"You're going to hate it."

"Oh, amuse me. So far you've signed yourself out as a patient, travelled across the city to break into a government morgue, broke out, fought a zombie and now you've stolen a motorbike. Really, what could part of tonight could I hate more?"

The Doctor winced, looking to the bridge, asked, "Martha…it is Martha? Well, how are your swimming skills?"

Martha looked to the bridge and then to the water beneath it. "Oh no, no way – you have got to be kidding. It's dark, freezing in there not to mention that you have no idea how deep or shallow the water is. This is where I get off. Nice knowing you, good luck saving the world, but I'm gone, have a happy-"

Another siren could be heard coming in their direction, she looked to it. "Oh no." She looked back to the Doctor and took a deep breath. "How do I know I can trust you."

He looked over his shoulder and looked into her eyes with warmth, "I admit, my methods of late have been dubious, but I promise, I would never hurt you."

The words resonated quite strongly to her. She couldn't explain it, but so far, nothing of that evening had made sense. But more than ever, for the first time in years, she felt so alive. She held onto him even tighter and looked ahead, "Hit it."

The bike took off, heading for the small slope, it picked up speed and the bike flew through the air once it kicked off from the lip of the bank. For a moment she felt that they might make it, but they descended toward the water, the Doctor then cried out, "JUMP – NOW!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7.**

The Doctor and Martha quietly made their way up the bank on the other side. Martha shivered heavily because not only had she been swimming through freezing water but the cool breeze was blowing onto her while she was walking through snow. The Doctor looked back to her and removed his leather jacket, leaving his short sleeve v-neck dark undergarment as the upper layer. He placed the leather jacket around her.

"Are you trying to keep me warm or speed up the process of a frost bite?" She asked frustratingly through chattering teeth.

The Doctor brushed his hair back with his hand, looking to her, "well I never said anything about a warm spa now did I? Come on," he said, taking her hand, walking them toward one of the houses which looked onto the water. The house they were approaching had the lights off. They both snuck around the side. The neighbours seemed to be away also.

Once inside the house, the Doctor found them two dry towels, he threw one to Martha. They seemed to be down in a basement down the bottom of the house with a number of packing boxes, possibly either because of moving or just junk they were throwing out.

Martha rigorously dries her hair, letting it fall down to her shoulders. Meanwhile, the Doctor walked over to what looked like an old wardrobe, he opened it and noticed it was full of old clothes. He dried his hair off with the towel and tossed it aside, turning around to Martha, he sat down on a chair in his wet clothes and started unzipping his boots. "You know, I never took time to thank you for all the risks, coming after me…and trusting me."

Martha looked back to him and forced a smile, though through some agony from the cold and the night she had experienced with him so far, "it's ok." She looked away from him for a moment and then back to him as he removed his boots. "The truth is, I don't know why I stuck by you all this time."  
>The Doctor stood up and pulled his top up off above his head, now topless and barefooted, he began to undo his trousers, "Well it is New Years Eve."<p>

Martha awkwardly looked away as he undressed and smiled a little. "It's just…I've always been so bound by what I know and then…you come along. Who are you…I mean really?" After a few seconds of silence, she looked over her shoulder to see the Doctor with his back to her – entirely naked. She looked back in the other direction and muttered out of frustrated guilt, "Fuck."

The Doctor took out a blue long sleeve collar shirt. He pulled it on and started buttoning it up. "Fancy throwing something like this out then." He then walked towards the stairs of the basement and headed upstairs leaving Martha alone, shrugging. "I guess I'll just help myself to the lingerie then?"

Martha walked over to the wardrobe and grinned. She saw a red leather zip up jacket, just her size by the looks of things. "Uncouth though he is…I must admit. The methods are sound when you need them." She walked over to a mirro and stood in front of it, still wet, holding the jacket before her. She walked over to a box and saw some other clothes, she collected them, hoping she'll find something that works. She headed back up out of the basement to a bathroom, making sure the Doctor wouldn't walk in on her naked. She could hear from across the house what sounded like a hairdryer.

The Doctor came back downstairs, now wearing a pair of suit trousers, brown with light blue pinstripes. His hair was also styled into a slick and spiky style. He was carrying a suit jacket which matched the trousers, he pulled that on but was still bare foot.

He then walked into what appeared to be the living room and switched on the television but kept it quiet. There were numerous reports of New Year's Eve celebrations but also a great deal of coverage concerning the military lock down.

"After London's Riot's this year, anything is to be expected for a New Year's bash, the Government is not taking preparations lightly" the reporter commented. The Doctor just smiled and shook his head, "You lot are so controlled."

His thoughts were distracted though when he heard the front gate. He turned off the TV and scooted to the front of the house to see two police officers with flashlights coming in the front garden. He then hurried back to the corridor, hissing, "Martha. MARTHA!"

Martha stuck her head and bare shoulders out, looking to him, she hissed back, "Whaaat?"

"We have company," he said, approaching the door.

"I'm not dressed yet," Martha protested. The Doctor grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out with her just wearing jeans only, her hair still down. Her arm was across her chest, looking to him in disgust.

"God you have a nerve!" She said, turning her back to him, grabbing the leather jacket, pulling it on. She turned around to face him, looking him up and down, "Nice outfit. No shoes?"

The Doctor took her hand, "No time."

Martha looked down to her own bare feet and then up to him as she followed, hissing again, "There's always time for shoes!"

The Doctor lead them quietly out the back, heading back for the TARDIS.

* * *

><p>In barefoot, they had miraculously made it back to the TARDIS.<p>

"So what, it's an apartment of some sort?" Martha asked as they entered the alley.

The Doctor pulled out his key from his suit pocket, walking toward the police box, "a home of sorts I suppose."

He walked up to the TARDIS, pushing the key in the lock, twisting it, he opened it up and stepped in.

Martha looked to him as he walked in, "Hey, I've got a boyfriend." There was no response, she shook her head and stepped in.

"I said-" shocked at the significantly larger space inside, she took a step outside and walked around the TARDIS, running her hands through her hair. "No…"

The Doctor stood at the console. It had finished its regeneration cycle. The interior was still the same but the systems had been rebooted, cabling repaired. "Yes," he simply said as she walked back in. "Yes, it's bigger on the inside."

Martha walked up the stairs to the console, looking at him over all the equipment. "What on earth in this?"

"The TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimensions In Space. In travels through space and time and even between dimensions. No, I'm not lying."

She looked to him, reluctantly walking around the console, she swallowed nervously, "Are you…human?"

The Doctor looked up to her and held his stare for a moment, "No."

Martha stepped back, holding the railing. "Are…are the government after you?"

"I don't believe so. But, they could work grossly against me. They're from a division called U.N.I.T. They're the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce. They're known of but mostly operate covertly." He then went back to looking at the screen. He reached into his pocket and took out the syringe gun he obtained earlier with the blood sample. He unscrewed the cylinder and poured a sample onto the petri-dish built into the console and ran a scan.

Martha sat down on the seat in front of the console, rubbing her feet from the chill. "I have so much to ask you."

"I have a few unanswered questions myself."

She continued to look at him, "do you have any socks or anything? My feet are freezing."

He nodded behind him, "go down through that door, second on the left. I have a whole wardrobe." Martha stood up, raised her eyebrows, the Doctor reciprocated by looking to her, then the doorway.

A few moments later after leaving the console room, she returned wearing a later wearing a black tank top over the jeans, leather jacket slumped over her arm, carrying a pair of boots and some converse sneakers. "These boots are hot. You get many girls coming here to stay?"

The Doctor was too focused on the screen, thinking, "yeah, a few." He then continued his train of thought but out loud, "but why drag the TARDIS to Earth when you already have the means to infiltrate the corpses?"

Confused, Martha looked up to the Doctor as she tucked her right fitted dark blue jeans leg into a knee high black leather zip up boot and then began on the other boot. "So the whole zombie thing is true?"

The Doctor turned and stare blankly ahead at the wall, "I'm afraid so." He nodded to the blood sample, "that blood has been infected that allows organs to refunction. But why does none of the person's individuality resurface?" He turned around and looked to the readings and muttered, "It's a virus."

She stood up, pulling on her red leather jacket over her fitted black tank top and reached for her hair, tying it back into a ponytail. "An experiment gone wrong?"

He looked to her and shook his head, "no. This is far too calculated for Earth medicine. This appropriates human blood, muscle, organs and tissue. But the body still can't deal with it." He then walked around the console. "I'm here by accident and at the same time, I'm not. I wasn't meant to be here, I was travelling and a signal dragged me down to Earth."

Martha followed him around the console. "Maybe they want your help."

"It's possible," he began flipping some buttons and turning a few dials. He looked to a map of London on the screen, "Gotcha! Now that I have the source of the signal, I shouldn't have too much trouble finding you."

"You found the source of the signal?"

"Indeed I did," the Doctor looked to her. "Again, thanks for your help, I couldn't have made it without you. I better let you get on with your night. You spoke of a boyfriend, he must be missing you."

Martha looked to him silently and tilted her head, "he's ummmm…he's out of town. Overseas actually. Far away. Far far way in fact."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, "No family, friends to see?"

She looked away for a moment, then back to him, "No, ummm, they're all busy." She shrugged and sheepishly offered, "I could join you."

The Doctor shook his head, "It's too dangerous."

A smile formed on Martha's lips, "that's how I like it."

He and Martha traded stares for a moment, the Doctor cleared his throat. "Very well then."

"Not without shoes you're not," she reached down and picked up the white converse sneakers, throwing them to him. The Doctor caught them on his chest with both hands. He looked to her awkwardly, "sneakers with a suit, really?"

She raised her eyebrow, "you'll look cuter…I mean, cute," she then changed the subject, reaching into her pocket, taking out a tie and throwing it to him. "Not to mention more professional. The blue and brown colour of the tie should match the suit."

The Doctor nodded, "I guess I have no choice," he looked to her, "nice clothes by the way."

Martha looked to him, remembering Brennan, "thanks. Though I'm not dressed to impress, I'll see you outside, ok?" She turned on the heel of her knee high boot and walked with a slight strut, not meaning to. She muttered to herself outside, "Cuter? Dressed to impress? Get it together girl."

The Doctor stepped out. They were both ready. The Doctor wore his new outfit. A brown suit with light blue pin stripes, jacket closed with a long sleeve blue collar shirt, blue and brown tie, white converse sneakers with slick, spiky hair. Martha's hair was tied back, wearing a cherry red leather jacket zipped up over a black tank top, fitted dark blue jeans tucked into knee high black leather zip up boots.

The Doctor locked the door behind him and looked to her with a smile, "Dressed to impressed and to kill by the looks of it." The Doctor strutted on ahead, Martha just rolled her eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"But it's a time machine that can travel places, why do we have to walk?" She pleaded as she walked beside him.

"I don't want to draw more attention to myself. If they could detect my presence while in transit, then moving from A-B on the same planet will just be handing them my plan. It's a wonder they weren't waiting outside the TARDIS for us."

"But who are THEY?"

The Doctor looked to Martha as they strolled through the busy streets, "yet another reason to remain beneath the radar. I just really don't know who or what is behind this. Besides, my regeneration cycle hasn't entirely completed so I'm not a full strength – yet."

"Regeneration?"

"Add it to your list of questions, it'll take too long to explain."

Martha gently laughed, "boy, do you have some explaining to do, Mister."

"All in good time, like all things. Speaking of time, we need a faster way to get across town – preferably not a motorbike, especially if it's owned by a foul mouthed, cricket bat wielding psychopath."

Martha laughed and looked to him. They boarded a double decker bus that would get them closer to where they needed to be. The pair sat on the roof beneath the evening sky, listening to the various celebrations that were going on around town.

Martha looked to him inquisitively, "you're so vague yet so interesting to be around."

The Doctor looked to her, his arms outstretched on the roof railing with one knee crossed over the other, "how do you mean?"

"It's like your holding back yet you have all these great things about you. You're funny, you're smart and you mostly hold up a conversation well."

The Doctor reflected, looking away for a moment, "well, we all have our secrets."

"Yeah but this officially marks my first encounter with Professor E.T so you'll need to cut me some slack."

The Doctor grinned, "you know, it wasn't so long ago a friend called me Spock," he then flicked his ears, "those big Micky Mouse ears of mine," referring to his ninth incarnation.

Martha sighed, "yet another question for my list. So, what's the plan when we arrive?"

The Doctor looked to the night sky and then to the traffic, "not sure yet but I'm hoping they'll be susceptible to listening." He looked to the surrounding buildings and stood up, "we're getting close. We'll walk from here, come on." He walked toward the staircase so they could disembark from the next stop.

* * *

><p>They walked quietly through the park together, the Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver and looked to Martha, "do you hear that?"<p>

Martha looked around, standing dead still and nodded slowly, "like a faint humming. Just sounds like rhythm and bass."

It was now that the Doctor's cynicism began to kick in, his voice darkening a little, "I just happen to know a bad tune when I hear one. Come on."

They continued through the park which was empty, most likely because of the cold and lack of festivities in that area. It was away from the main drag of town and clear of the bridge that U.N.I.T had closed off.

The Doctor jumped from a small dirt mount onto more solid ground. He jumped up and down on the ground repeatedly, increasing the intensity of the impact with the ground each time, leaving Martha to simply stare with narrowed eyes of distaste.

"It's here, I can feel it – literally!" He announced, waving his sonic screwdriver about, the tip of it now illuminating.

Martha wrapped her arms around herself from the chill of the park, "the feeling of winter or awkwardness?"

The Doctor then jumped down on all fours, pressing his ear to the soil, a grin appearing on his face. "Oh yes, there you are."

Martha started to look around the park, expecting a mob of partygoers to encounter them, but to both her delight and paranoia, the mix of dimmed humming and silence remained.

The Doctor rose to his feet, pointing the lit sonic screwdriver at various parts of the ground. Martha started to follow him around. "So what is that, some kind of electronic Swiss army knife? I've seen you use it for a few things now."

"I suppose you could think of it as that. Just more awesome."

Before Martha could contribute anything further to the conversation, the ground beneath them began to open in a reverse whirlpool type formation. A bright white light shot up from the ground, the both dropped in, sliding through a sloped metallic tunnel which resembled a dry but slippery water slide. They both crashed in a heap at the bottom with the Doctor facing forward on his front on the ground with Martha sliding onto his back, also lying forward. The sonic screwdriver rolled forward ahead of the Doctor.

Martha stood up first with a cheeky grin and a wink, "close encounters of the third kind, huh?"

The Doctor stood up, collecting his sonic screwdriver, tucking it away, looking to her, "There's going to be a few of those, but not quite as pleasant as the one you just remarked on." He dragged his hand along the cavern wall. It was a strange conglomerate of Earth soil, green flesh and light panels. Martha also touched the wall but immediately retracted her hand, looking to it and then the Doctor. "What on Earth is that?"

The Doctor nodded to the wall and the floors, "something that fell upon the Earth," he then looked down the corridor and started walking down it.

* * *

><p>Talking and muttering could be heard. They both came to a clearing, a ledge that overlooked a circular, throne type room made from stone. There were various patterns on the ground with the walls lit with older medieval type of torches. The inconsistency of the caverns was puzzling.<p>

Surrounding the circle seemed to be a union of some kind, five aliens joined in a circle. A Silurian, a Sontaran, a Zygon, an Ogron and a species the Doctor had known of but never met, a Darjyn.

The Darjyn began talking. It took a humanoid form with pearly white skin with bold red veins and hollowed out eye sockets filled with a fleshy deep blue substance. It was dressed in a one piece black uniform and spoke with a feminine voice, though its gender, if any at all, remained ambiguous. "But surely, a four fifths majority vote should suffice the Proclamation. We don't need him to give input, we don't have time to waste. My people are dying."

The Sontaran began speaking in its signature, parochial tone. "The proclamation makes it abundantly clear that interference with a culture not a party to the proclamation much be met with a unanimous vote. A vote that must consist of five parties, each of which representing separate species."

The female Silurian began speaking, "could we not just summon a representative other than this petty Time Lord?"

The Sontaran responded, "negative. He was the nearest contact. His blue box has made contact with Earth, it is just a matter of time."

The Darjyn interjected, "but what guarantee is it that he will agree for Earth's dead to play host to our dying species. These bodies we reside in are experimental at best and are decaying as we stand here. The human physiology is ideal. We need his vote of confidence for this to proceed."

Suddenly, the penny dropped and the Doctor started to discover what was taking place. It was a hearing. He turned on his heel and headed back down the corridor, Martha joining him.

* * *

><p>In a secluded part of the hide out, the Doctor remained in deep thought while Martha made several attempts to understand what she had just witnessed.<p>

"But why should they care about human physiology? I mean, humans aren't inspired by veterinary science to better themselves."

The Doctor looked to her with folded arms with a slight nod, "yet practices of veterinary science do take a leaf or two from the books of traditional medicine. All in the name of improving the quality of an animal's life. Imagine if an animal could relate to you like a human. Walk on two feet, talk, eat at the same table as you…" interrupting his train of thought with a raised eyebrow, "…engage in mating practices."

Martha winced at the thought of this, "oh, please."

The Doctor clears shook his head, "this is way different though. We're not talking about aliens. Just because they lack the identifiable features of a human should hardly deny them the right to a better life."

She gave this some thought and reluctantly shrugged, "but you can't expect me just to embrace this like it's just another culture from a far away land."

"But that's exactly what it is. They communicate, breath, eat, reproduce – they arguably have all the ingredients necessary to make them human if you really want to see it from that perspective."

Martha continued to struggle with his logic, "but even then, we don't cannibalise one another's bodies."

The Doctor maintained a straight expression with her, "no, you just believe in taxidermy and fast food."

"That's so unreasonable!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, they're not humans, they're-" but suddenly she began to realise.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, "they're just animals. They don't talk, walk around with handbags and mobile phones – zap em!"

"But it's so tasteless and reckless what those…people in that chamber room want to do! Using our dead as hosts just for their longevity? How could you empathise-"

With another roll of his eyes, the Doctor returned, "because it's so indecent, so wrong, so barbaric. Do I really need to lecture you on human history?"

With a mournful, almost tearful eyes, she said in a whisper, "but that doesn't make it right."

The Doctor reciprocated the tone, "which is precisely why I need to discuss options with them. But at the same time, I need to be open to the fact that there's not.

Martha looked to him suspiciously with narrowed eyes, she folded her arms, "this has really struck a chord with you hasn't it? No, it's hit a bloody nerve! There is more to you and I'm tired of trying to work out what it is! How dare you, who are you you decide-"

"Sssshhh," the Doctor hissing in a panic at the increased loudness of her voice. He continued, "look, my people have faced similar dilemmas, so I'm not one to just harangue my sanctimony to whoever I see fit."

Martha looked to him curiously, "so there's a line you're willing to draw."

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard along with a rifle being fastened, "then do elaborate, Doctor," said the now present Sontaran. "We've been anticipating your company and now that your with us, proceedings can begin." The Sontaran gestured with his blaster down the corridor, "This way, please."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

At gunpoint, The Doctor and Martha walked through the catacombs ahead of The Sontaran, back toward where the main chamber room.

"How did you know I was the Doctor. Let me guess, heat signature scan, regeneration radiation, sonic screwdriver emissions, eccentric dress code and behaviour?" The Doctor said in an attempt to break the silence while walking ahead.

"UUhhh, no, I just heard your companion refer to you as Doctor actually. But I will note those other features for when we need to detect you in future. Thanks for that." The Sontaran responded showing his manners.

The Doctor sarcastically smiled, "no problems. Remind me to email the TARDIS temporal signature to you once we're done here." The Doctor suddenly felt something blunt and metallic hitting the middle of his back, it was the Sontaran's butt of the rifle.

"Sarcastic retort also noted."

The Doctor rubbed the middle of his back, wincing and looking ahead, "that was a little nasty."

Walking alongside him, Martha looked to him, "no…no you deserved that one."

The Doctor remained silent until they were walked out into the main room, the Sontaran announcing triumphantly, "I found them snooping around in the corridor. It's definitely the Doctor."

The Zygon observed, "he looks radically different than the last documented sighting. His hair…it's so slick. Not to mention the absence of all the long clothing."

"Its because he's regenerated multiple times since when you last saw him. I'm willing to bet he's needed to do that a few times since that particular incarnation. Would I be right, Doctor? How many lives did you have to waste during the Time War? Best not include those which you claimed yourself otherwise we'll be here for the entire New Year," menaced the Silurian female.

A dark, hurt look crossed the Doctor's face which articulated his feelings accurately without actually having to say anything.

The Silurian further taunted, "don't be so bashful. You get to play god once again, as you've done for the previous 900 years." Nodding to Martha she asked, "dare I ask how much she knows? Or is she blinded by the charm and handsome physique? I suppose that gets the younger ones than the middle aged man routine?"

Martha paid close attention to the exchange between the pair and took particular note of the reference to the war and the lives claimed. The 900 years part made her head spin.

The Darjyn finally interjected, "we could discuss old scars and skeletons in closets for some time to come, but that is not the purpose for which we are gathered. My people are dying Doctor and you are the final cog in the machinery which can propel us from the grave in which we stand."

He affirmed her request with a nod and replied in turn, "you've travelled a long way. There's no other species that could host you?"

"Nothing that wouldn't keep us searching in another two years for a more compatible race." The Darjyn then looked to Martha and back to the Doctor, "they're a feeble but utilitarian race are they not?"

"Watch it," cautioned Martha.

The Doctor gestured to her to remain quiet, for her own good, he then looked back to the Darjyn. "You realise that in hosting a former living human being, that for you to exist on the planet wouldn't be possible. It goes far against the customs and believes of the planet."

"We have considered this and have located a hospitable planet millions of light years from here. The environment is habitable and suits the vegetation of this planet adequately."

"How many bodies do you require?" Martha interrupted with some abrasion in her tone. The Doctor shot her another disapproving look.

"Somewhere…as you humans would say…in the ballpark thirty bodies."

Martha looked away at what she felt was the absurdity of the concept.

Suddenly, the Darjyn representative looked up and raised her hand to her temple and shot a direct stare to the Sontaran. "Why have your ships raised shields?"

"As long as the Darjyn have something to gain, that gives us the strategic advantage we need to exploit this situation. We have some demands to make for this to go ahead. We demand a share in the resources you take from this planet. We also wish to learn the way of consciousness transference." The Sontaran demanded.

"Absolutely absurd. We're in a position of need, this isn't a trade dispute."

The Doctor looked cursively to the Sontaran, "you have no grounds on which you can raise hostility. Even before discussing that, there is clearly no honour in your tactic here."

The Sontaran looked to the Doctor contrarily, "but I'm afraid that is where you are wrong. We have evidence to suggest that the need of The Darjyn exceeds the thirty they speak of. They are amassing hundreds more. The thirty are merely a stepping stone." He then tapped his wrist and in the middle of the circle, a holographic image emerged of thousands of native Darjyn floating around in their ethereal form, hundreds of voices coming through.

"This transmission has been falsified!" The Darjyn protested.

The Doctor folded his arms, looking to the Darjyn. "There always was talk of a Darjyn underground after The Time War. They had to hide like everyone else. I sincerely doubt you have the spiritual energy between thirty of you to come all this way."

The Darjyn representative looked darkly to The Doctor, "then so be it. If we cannot get an agreement, then we will need to take a more persuasive mode of action." She then looked to the ceiling and took a deep breath, the energy building up within her produced a white light flowing from within her, out through her eyes and mouth.

Three more Sontaran then transported into the chamber with them, taking aim.

The Doctor looked panic stricken, "NO! IF you shoot her you would have killed all of The Darjyn travelling through her."

"We are left with little option, Doctor." One of the Sontaran asserted. "If we let allow her to proceed, they would have broken through with the numbers they need and will become even more of a threat."

The Doctor swallowed nervously, internally conflicted. "We can't justify the deaths of all those over one turncoat."

Martha ran to the Doctor's side and took his hand, looking to him, the Doctor stared straight ahead to The Darjyn intently.

"The problem is Doctor, you're not the one holding the gun. Sontaran, get ready."

"We should get out of here!" Martha cautioned.

The Doctor turned to her, reaching inside his pocket, he took out his sonic screwdriver and handed it to her, "get back to the entrance point, press this button and waive it at the ceiling, it should open up and take you to the surface."

"I'm not leaving you here!" she protested.

"TAKE AIM," the Sontaran took their stance, the Doctor ran his hand through his hair. As this was happening, the room was filling with spirits.

The Doctor had no choice, he stepped into the middle of the room, "I AM YOUR NEW HOST – CLAIM ME!"

Martha looked straight to him, "Doctor! You'll die!"

"STAY BACK!" he shouted to her darkly, he then looked to the Darjyn. "You're about to all be killed by the Sontarans. Become one with me."

Like a moth to the flame, the spirits then headed toward the Doctor, he looked to the ceiling and widened his arms, the energy filled him, white light filling him.

He then entered an alternate dream like state where he could see them all in the white void. This would have killed him but his organs were still undergoing the regeneration process.

Meanwhile, outside of this state, the Sontaran turned to face the Doctor. "The Doctor is aiding and abetting the enemy. He must be deemed as the enemy also." They took aim.

The Doctor was able to communicate with them in the subconscious. In an abstract, interdimensional mode of existence, he excised them back, "the people of this Earth do not consent. I can send you back on your journey without the Sontarans killing you. They won't be able to catch up with you, but you must leave NOW. Don't be fooled and think you can infiltrate the corpses, the Sontaran will just kill you when you adopt those forms."

Martha was left to look on, a tear rolling down her eye, suddenly, the light from his body shot up into the ceiling and the Doctor was set free. But, suddenly, the cavern started to shake, the ground between them was cracking and opening. The Doctor ran and leapt over to Martha, "now would be a good time to leave!"

The Sontaran took aim and fired, narrowly missing the Doctor and Martha as they sprinted for the exit. The Doctor could hear the voice of the Darjyn but in unity, "We thank you Doctor, now we will save you as you have saved us. We just hope we have enough time." Suddenly, a white light surrounded both Martha and the Doctor and they appeared back in the park. The ground in front of them collapsed in, the Earth sucking it in, only for the ground to now just be a large patch of soil and leaves.

The Doctor dropped to his knees, breathing heavily, Martha knelt down beside him. "I can't believe you survived that."

The Doctor looked to her, "I was on the tail end of my regeneration cycle, all the energy is gone now. The regeneration process is over, I just got lucky." The Doctor started to get the strength to stand up again. "Otherwise, I would have been killed."

Martha stood up with him, "what about all those other aliens?"

"They would have transported out before the collapse and most likely presume us dead. They'll be thinking of ways to pursue The Darjyn. They won't have much luck though."

Over the park, fireworks started to ignite, cheering from all around the city could be heard. Martha turned to the Doctor with a smile, "happy new year, Doctor."

"Happy New Year to you!"

Martha leaned in a little, but stopped and instead hugged him, the Doctor hugged her back.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10.**

The walk through the snow after everything that happened gave her a chance to think things through one last time. Had the banality become so unbearable that she needed to, at least temporarily, run off with this unusual stranger that professes himself as Doctor? Just as the Doctor had once struggled to come to terms with his own identity, she was attempting to overcome her intrigue for this wanderer.

Martha felt that her absence for time being need not have any explanation. _Well it IS a time machine…surely I could be gone 5 minutes here but have a good week to myself_. Her selfish streak was certainly at a high. Perhaps that's what made Martha and The Doctor such an ideal team. Both running from something, both upholding a title but at the same time, no certainty of anything in sight.

But, she pushed those thoughts aside as she stepped into the TARDIS, relieved to finally throw her backpack down from the weight pushing onto her back.

The Doctor looked over the middle column to her, "bringing a companion of your own?"

Martha stood upright with her hands on her hips, "well I've never been out in space before. You never know what you'll encounter and what climates you'll face."

"Are you sure you're not jumping into this too quick? Especially while your boyfriend and family are overseas? It's not a problem to bring you back, but you seemed to have just done this at the drop of a hat."

"Oh, please. London is dead after New Years. Seriously, everyone either just stays home to avoid the cold or goes overseas. The movies on at the cinemas are boring, there's nothing on television and a lot of the shops I go to close over this period."

"Well, just as long as you know, anytime it becomes a bit much, just let me know."

Martha paced around the console, looking to the middle column as the Doctor set in the co-ordinates.

A smile growing on her lips, a thought occurred to her, "you know, this thing could really come in handy when I have exams because I could spend months revising and then just travel back when I feel I'm ready."

"It sounds a lot like The Beatles reforming to me, it'll never happen despite the love for it," he responded while in full focus of the controls he had his eyes and hands on.

Martha sarcastically pouted her lips to look sad, "not even for me?"

The Doctor looked up from the console as if it were matter of fact, mentoring that "especially not you since you lack the basics of patient care; ensuring that they remain in bed."

She laughed defensively, placing her hands on her hips, walking up to him, "excuse me but I can't be responsible for the stubborn, know-it-all patient that can't keep still."

The Doctor raised his eyebrow sarcastically, "customer is always right."

Martha shook her head in disbelief, "goodness you have an ego," she said with a look to the console, her grin returning as she flipped the lever on the console.

The Doctor looked to her, hinting at an impatient streak for stupidity, flipping the lever back to its original position he ordered, "don't do that!"

Yet Martha just did the same thing again to which the Doctor flipped the lever back, a tennis court style interplay that lasted for four or five flips which ended in Martha placing her hand on his as he went to flip the lever back. "You know, I get the impression that as a Doctor not only are you used to being the Captain around here but you seem to think of yourself as judge, jury and executioner. Would I be right?"

The Doctor held her stare and kept his hand beneath hers as they held eye contact that was half serious and the other in jest, "you forgot handyman."

Martha raised her eyebrow, shaking her head a little, "no maintenance man, robot assistant…maid?"

"Are you volunteering?"

Martha smirked, "I'm not a robot, handyman. I'm a Doctor. So, with two Doctors on board, I have a feeling things are going to get rather interesting around here, wouldn't you say?"

"Just remember who has the keys."

Martha then hit a button on the console which sent the TARDIS flying faster through the vortex causing some turbulence in the console room. With a chuckle and a wink she remarked, "the ship's handyman of course. And do I have some questions for you regarding everything that has just happened since I met you!"

THE END.


End file.
